


Under an Endless Sky

by Ponderosa, suyari



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Jaegers, Kaiju, M/M, Polyandry, Trespasser - Freeform, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years ago the world ended. Too bad no one told the stubborn to give in. </p><p>Or the one in which Trespasser was the only Kaiju to invade. Kaiju Blue turns people into kaiju zombies. Jaegers are groups of highly skilled Blues hunters. Everybody lives (relatively speaking). And Rangers are still the Heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under an Endless Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the Pacific Rim Reverse Big Bang 2014. 
> 
> Art by Ponderosa.
> 
> Fic by Suyari.

Snow crunched under Herc’s boots. Above him stretched a vast, dark sky, shot through with starlight. The moon shone low on the horizon, but it was enough to see by this far north. Most importantly, all around him, stretching on for miles, was snow. The light glittered off it, making it much brighter than it ought to be so far into the wilderness. Or perhaps, it was as nature intended, before man had gotten cocky and lit up the planet for all to see, clear out into the reaches of space. Perhaps that was what had brought them to them. Perhaps it was the lure. Herc couldn’t be sure. But what he _did_ know, was that so far, there were none in his vicinity.

Kaiju Blue was easy to spot, especially in the dark across a flat plain. The infected glowed like beacons, as if led lights had been implanted beneath their grey, contorted skin. And their eyes, two orbs that burned with an unnatural light, was easily seen for miles. It wasn’t being snuck up on a body had to worry about. It was being bled on. 

Kaju Blue was perhaps the most dangerous pathogen mankind had ever had the misfortune of experiencing. And it had arrived without warning. Just like the creature from which it derived it’s name. Tresspasser had arrived out of the water and mist, railroading through San Francisco on a cool August day. Unprepared, it had taken seven nations six days to take it down. The world mourned the death of 95,000 people, civilian and military alike, memorialized the event, and did its best to move on. While three cities had been lost, the atmosphere had been mostly optimistic. They’d had no choice but to be, and in the end, they’d bested the monster that had stormed their world’s gates, and that had counted for a great deal. Six months later, the first outbreak occurred, nearly wiping out the Phillipines in the first month. By then, it was starting to happen everywhere. Nine months after the Kaiju had arrived, Tresspasser’s real presence was born. It was almost poetic. 

Herc dug his heels in and braced himself against the cold. His pack was heavy, though the spot about his middle remained blessedly warm. Body heat could do that for a person. When Scott had taken ill and Chuck broke his arm, they had agreed that the delay could not cause an interruption of their services. Fact was, people _counted_ on them. For all that there were very few people actually left. Chuck had insisted he’d go along, right up until they lost two people to a horde fifteen miles from base. They’d have to relocate, and they couldn’t do both - move their team and move their products - if they stayed together. Of course, it had been a fight. Chuck had stubbornness and pride on his side. Herc had an ill Scott and a mourning family. Chuck, if nothing else, was all about family. Which meant the shouting match hadn’t lasted long. It made sense, in its own crazy way. Scott was sick, their team down people, and two nuclear families missing loved ones who’d never come back. Chuck had a broken arm. He could handle taking point on the move, but not the long trip of their annual merchantry journey. Which left the trip to Herc, with his two good arms, working set of legs, strong back, and flawless sense of direction. 

He didn’t like to think about the farewell. They’d been about as strong as any two people could be when faced with the possibility of never seeing one another again. But, truth of the matter was, Chuck had not left his father’s side in a decade. Not since the day Herc had had to choose between the horde descending on the financial district and the one heading for the school. They were still fighting them with everything they had back then, before the workforce had dwindled, making weapons impossible to build, let alone acquire the raw materials to do so. Before the world’s nations crumbled under the weight of their new inhabitants. Herc had been ordered to go in neither direction, which was when he broke rank, stole a chopper and went to get his child. He didn’t let himself think about the lives lost that day because he had disobeyed direct orders. Tried especially hard not to think about Angela out there somewhere, and what had happened, and how, and why. 

He’d saved twenty-seven lives that day, because they had all been little ones. The weight restrictions could be flouted easily when passengers barely weighed a few hundred pounds between them. What had nearly killed them all had been the space. There just wasn’t enough of it, and too many people who needed saving. He’d rushed them as best he could, keeping an eye on the incoming wall of raging beasts rapidly descending upon them. They’d all known it then, the adults. They’d known they only had one shot. The two teachers who’d been directing children had jumped out, shoving four more precious young lives in their space. They’d slammed the doors closed and had patted the chopper good luck, herding the rest of the kids away and back into the building. 

Chuck sat in his lap. He’d barely touched down before throwing himself out of the chopper and running toward the group running toward him. The sounds of salvation drawing them out from any hiding spots they may have attempted to take. As soon as he’d seen his son, he’d grabbed him up, called for his teacher to follow with his class and ran like hell. He’d set him down in his seat and told him not to move as he’d loaded kids. Climbed in after him when the trembling began and strapped him tight to his chest. 

“Don’t look,” he’d told him, pressing his face to his jacket. 

Chuck had asked for his mother, even as he clung to his father with all his strength. 

“We’re going to get her next,” he’d told him, knowing they’d never have the chance. 

By the time he’d gotten back to base and unloaded, they hadn’t been able to discharge him. There hadn’t been much of anything left. Scott had survived, had arrived with a jacket full of puppies. Herc understood that. Needing to save any life, when faced with not being able to do a single thing for those who needed you most. Chuck had clung to one - a little bulldog whose eyes had probably only just opened - and that had been how Max found them. 

Chuck had insisted he bring Max along when they’d been parted, and as much as Herc knew it would hurt them all, he was aware of how it would keep up morale. Max had made every trip with them since the day they’d been forced to leave Australia. The Hansen brothers would have preferred living in the outback where their own country took care of them. Providing for them while simultaneously forcing them to be resilient and strong, as well as doing most of the work obliterating the infected with the same - if not more - fierce diligence it had always show it’s native population. 

And then the idiots in charge had decided nuking the hell out of the hordes was the most efficient way to rid themselves of them. They’d managed to kill more survivors than the infected had collectively up until that very moment. Having the contacts he did, Herc had managed to hear about it before it had taken place. Scott’s contacts had gotten them the passage they’d required. They’d run in the night that time. Gathering everything they could, and making for the coast to board the ship and be miles away before things went to hell. The heat of the blast had reached them the next day anyway. But they’d learned. 

Everything about Kaiju Blue was a learning experience. It was one massive learning curve. With survival at one end and life as a monstrous alien beast on the other. Death a comfortable medium in between. 

He tugged up his jacket as he crested the hill. If it weren’t for Stacker, they’d have never traveled so far north. Only recently had word begun to spread - mostly through the Hansens themselves, given their travels - that certain environments altered the state of the Blues. The frigid temperatures of the Northern United States and Canada slowed them down significantly for several months. Long enough for hunting parties to balance things out a bit. The Jaegers - as they were called - consisted of several teams working together in determined groups. They trained together, lived together, spent all of their days and nights and every spare moment together. They were the last force, they were the ones who could be counted on to run toward the horde and hold them off. They were the ones who chose to die. 

Most Jaeger teams consisted of no more than two or three people. He’d never seen one with more than five, and even that had been pushing it. It took a certain connectivity that few people had - especially post Apocalypse. You had to trust the people in your Jaeger with your life, your sanity and your continued survival. He’d formed one out of necessity. It was no surprise really when he and Scott had found they had a knack for it. Chuck had joined them as soon as he was old enough - and while there had been plenty of arguing over whether or not he should even be allowed to between himself and Scott, they had taught him well. Chuck had been raised in the field, and he knew nothing else. Survival was a unique skill. One their family was very, very good at. 

No one did Jaegers like Stacker Pentecost. After the death of his sister Luna on K-Day, he and her widow had kept together. They’d begun the resistance. They’d traveled, fighting the hordes all over the world to compile the best way to exterminate them once and for all. They’d picked up Mako in Japan and raised her as their own. Tamsin had caught the Blue when Mako had been with them only a year or so. Stacker had done the unconventional. He’d taken her home - against a rule he’d enforced ought never to be broken - allowed her to say her goodbyes, then mercifully ended her suffering. They’d been in Hawaii then. Had managed to get a few more good years out of it before things really went to hell. He’d bounced around a bit more, managing travel through his expansive network, before finally settling in Alaska, holing up with his own private army in his Shatterdome. They’d been invited, had planned to make the move, only to find their true calling. 

They’d called them the Lucky Seven once. In the beginning when the Hansen brothers and their team could find anything, survive anything, assist the helpless and uplift the hopeless. It was the find of a lifetime that had turned the name over to a fond Striker Eureka. Which stuck as the number of conclaves slowly dwindled. The Hansens and their team were merchants, medics, mailmen, and a mobile Jaeger team with an extensive kill list that stretched across the continent. Anyone else would be considered suicidal for traveling alone. Herc Hansen was considered brave and honorable. After all, they’d never _had_ to begin what they’d begun. But it brought a comfort to others, kept everyone in contact, and provided necessities the world couldn’t otherwise afford to hand out any longer. The Hansens had become synonymous with hope. A steady, regular presence that persisted despite the hell they’d been forced to reside in. And it was because of them that life could continue for many people who had already been through more than anyone had a right to be exposed to. They were a symbol of freedom, a show of strength, and the bright spark of hope for a future - any future. People needed that as much as they needed everything else the Hansens brought them. So, they continued on and always would. 

The sound of shots being fired caused him to pause, pulling out his gun and looking around. In the distance he could see the faint light of a horde of Blues. The bright bursts of weapons fire, and the glint of metal beneath the moon. Gipsy Danger. 

He dropped his pack, but kept Max close. Blues would consume anything with a heartbeat and he’d be damned if he’d let them eat a member of his family. Pulling the straps to keep Max in place and bracing a hand to the additional weight, he did what any member of a Jaeger would do. He ran _toward_ them.

He’d first met the Beckets when they were kids. Long before Stacker had made it back to the states. A pair of teenagers who’d lost their entire family to Kaiju Blue and were struggling to survive on their own. Herc and Scott had gathered them up, fed them, clothed them and trained them on their long trip. The thing about properly run conclaves was that they were always looking for more people. They thrived on new people being brought in. To share the workload, to bolster their numbers, to better protect themselves, and in recent years, for breeding. It may seem crazy to want to bring more lives into a world already past its breaking point. But, the simple fact was, no babies, no children, meant no more humans. If they stopped reproducing, they’d lose. Even if they won against the Blues, there’d be no one left to inherit the spoils of a long, hard war finally won. Besides, without contraceptives readily available and medical supplies rare and used sparingly, situations happened, and one took their lives in their hands any other way. Herc had always respected a woman’s right to choose. He’d never felt it was anyone’s business what another person did with their own body. Especially when it came to matters that weighed a lifetime. He only wished he could do more to help. But, he did what he could and it would have to be enough. 

In the end, they’d bonded with the Gage twins in Washington. Yancy and Raleigh choosing to stay with them instead of looking through other promising conclaves on their way back around. Herc and Scott had respected their wishes. Chuck had missed them for a long time. It wasn’t rare to find kids on their own - and the Hansens preferred to _find_ them than not - but age ranges varied. They were either too old and jaded to want to move, or too young and completely traumatised. Chuck as a child had not been particularly friendly. He’d learned to trust only in his own family, to stay close to his father and uncle physically, extending mentally and emotionally into the mix. They hadn’t helped matters, Herc supposed, but then, he and Scott were more concerned about Chuck’s survival than their own and that level of dogged resolve could weigh on a young mind. Chuck had never had cause to feel fear in their presence. Even when confronted by Blues. He had always remained calm, resolute in his absolute faith in them to protect him and everyone else they were with. The amazing thing was, how little he’d changed in that, even as a member of their Jaeger, a pillar in their community. 

Chuck and the Beckets had gotten along. Had bonded during the months they’d been a part of their group. There had been some squabbles, of course - it would have been foolish to think any children, let alone three boys, could be perfect angels, even with the world in the state it was in; it had been refreshing in it’s own way - but overall, the Beckets were missing a younger sibling, and Chuck had never had anyone but adults. They’d have been happy to keep them. But, autonomy and respect was most important. It was funny how the world had evened out with something to unify it. Very few people cared how the others lived, as long as they _**lived**_. Every now and again, Jaegers were called upon for policing communities, but overall, most conclaves handled fairly well all told. 

He didn’t think, just reacted. Keeping to the outskirts of the skirmish, so as not to ruin the effective strength of the Jaeger itself. He picked off Blues, slowly circling in as Mako and Raleigh held their ground. He couldn’t see Yancy, but then, there was a slight piling of bodies to the North, which indicated a last stand. Either Yancy was already dead, or his teammates had taken position to keep him from such a fate. It was difficult to tell, as the pair in the middle of the horde were being attacked from all sides. A few Blues looked in Herc’s direction, but most couldn’t look past the lure of the swarm. It was almost a hive reaction. Herc had seen it enough times to know Mako and Raleigh would either come out of it exhausted but alive, or Blues themselves. 

He made his way to the pile, sliding down the slope he encountered, and finding Yancy beneath a snow drift. He was unconscious, but mostly upright. One leg stretched out, the other folded beneath him. The blood in the snow was a dark red, streaking the trail he’d made when he’d dragged himself into a better defensive position. 

“Yancy,” Herc called, as he stepped closer. Members of Jaegers had a reflexive habit of shooting first, looking into it later, when in the midst of a battle. The only way to safely approach was to do what Blues could not. Speak. “Yancy, it’s Herc. I’m coming over. I’ve got you. Just stay calm.” 

Yancy’s head bobbed slightly, eyes fluttering open. Hazy, pained blue orbs met his as Herc dropped beside him, tucking his firearm away. “Raleigh…” he gasped, clutching Herc’s sleeve. “Mako.” 

“They’re doing what needs doing,” he replied, pulling out a flashlight and dragging Yancy into a better position - to a sharp hiss of pain. “You should too. Keep an eye over my shoulder, and let me take a look at you.” 

Yancy didn’t need instruction. He’d been taught by the best, raised by the best, worked with the best. But Herc couldn’t be sure how much blood he’d lost and he needed him to focus on something to keep conscious. Protecting someone else was a surefire way to keep a Ranger with you. He stepped over Yancy’s fallen body, moving to his injured side. Yancy cried out when he rolled him, but otherwise made no sound, barely breathing harshly as Herc probed at the wound. He’d broken his leg, that much was certain. The bone snapping clear through the meat of his thigh. Someone with power out in the universe loved the kid though, because for all the blood, there was no blue. 

He didn’t warn him. Which resulted in Yancy’s agonized scream as he snapped his bone back into place. It echoed for miles, even with the sounds of a battle surrounding them. Herc made quick work of bandaging, splinting, and safeguarding the wound, before throwing Yancy’s arm about his shoulders and hefting him up to teeter on his good leg. 

The echoes of battle still hung in the air, as Mako and Raleigh rounded the pile of corpses quickly, fear in their eyes. Fear which turned immediately into relief and swiftly into gratitude. Raleigh crossed the distance in two strides, threw his arms about them, then kissed Herc full on the mouth. Mako was more reserved, embracing him tightly. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Raleigh commented, settling himself beneath his brother’s other arm and taking most of his weight. “Little late though.” 

“Trouble at home,” Herc replied, Mako keeping the perimeter as they mostly carried a hobbling Yancy clear of the carnage. 

Three pairs of eyes descended on him, sympathy at the edges. 

“Chuck’s okay. Broke his arm. Scott’s been battling the same damn bout of pneumonia for six months. We lost two people. Had to relocate. Had to head out. We parted ways, but everyone’s fine.” After losing two people, Herc knew this. Chuck would be more diligent than ever. Everyone would make it to their next base safely. 

Mako stepped close and pressed her palm against the bulge beneath his jacket. “Hello Max.”

A whining sound came from about Herc’s belly. He couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What were you doing so far out?” he asked, when they’d stopped and made camp for the night. 

“Hunting a horde that’s been terrorising the coast for a year,” Raleigh replied. “We knew you’d be coming soon. We wanted to make sure it was safe.”

Herc smiled. “You could have let us take our chances. We’re not that bad at hunting, ourselves.”

“Wouldn’t...have mattered...much,” Yancy responded, body still shivering. “You were...alone.”

“I’ve managed before,” he soothed. “But thank you. We appreciate the thoughtfulness, every time.” He settled into a crouch beside him and lay a hand to his brow. “Need more for the pain?”

“I’ll...live…”

“You better,” Raleigh replied. There was a fond, teasing tone to it, but they all knew better. 

“Not...going anywhere...kiddo…”

“Yancy,” Mako sighed, moving to sit beside his head. She stroked over his brow, sweeping his hair aside. “Rest.” 

“I’ll...be...fine…”

She responded in Japanese, which Herc had never learned, but the Beckets were fluent in. 

“Why’d...we...marry her...again?” he teased, mouth lifting in the first smile Herc had seen from him this trip. 

“Because we’re both whipped,” Raleigh replied with amusement. 

Mako leaned over to kiss Yancy sweetly, stretching out beside him for body warmth. Herc gestured at them and stood gingerly, stretching his legs. Raleigh nodded, and moved to his brother’s other side to envelope him in heat, while Herc took the first watch. 

They made it back to the Shatterdome as quickly as they could, which turned out to be three days. It had been good, regardless, as if they’d miscalculated, there had been plenty of time for Yancy to develop symptoms. When he hadn’t, they’d all breathed a silent, collective breath of relief. No one had mentioned it, but they’d all felt it. 

Stacker had been happy to see him. They’d had a drink and caught one another up. Max loping around the new space, warm and content. The dog had a keen sense for Blues - not that they had cause to fear them within the fortress Stacker had spent years painstakingly building - but it was comforting to know _someone_ had watch, so he could relax. 

“You should have brought them,” Stacker said, long fingers holding his cup just above the table. “Relocated to us, where it’s safe.”

“Stacker,” Herc sighed. “Scott’s got pneumonia. Moving him up here would have killed him. Chuck needed to rest. We have a new mother and two pregnancies…” He shook his head. “Safer to wait out the winter where we know we can protect everyone.” 

“How much longer do you intend to do this?” 

“As long as it takes.” He took a long draw from his glass. Good liquor was hard to find these days. More useful in its applications for medicine than imbibing. But, Stacker knew when to take a moment. If he hadn’t, he’d never had managed half of his accomplishments. “You know, I never would have thought you’d allow one of your contacts to go cold.”

Stacker graced him with a look. Herc had missed him. “We both know how important your work is. But, we’re also both well aware of how things have been turning of late.”

“All the more reason.”

“Herc. Move your people here. Let us protect you.” He continued, without letting Herc get a word in. “You can still keep your means, all I’m asking is that you consider my offer once more. Our walls are as effective at keeping the Blues out as I’ve ever seen. We have medical staff, storage space, supplies, and plenty of room. Stop moving your people around. Give them a home again.”

It was tempting. So very tempting. “I don’t know how well my people will handle it, but, I’ll think about it. We discuss everything first, so even if we do decide to accept your offer and make the trip, it’ll be another year before we make it, possibly two.” Traveling with as many people as Herc would be over such a distance would be like waving a red flag in the Blues faces or sounding a dinner bell. They could do it in small groups, but it would take too long. And there were the livestock and crops to consider. If they moved - a single, final move - they’d have to take everything. And that would only slow them down even more. 

“What if I told you, I could cut the travel time down considerably?”

Herc didn’t doubt Stacker had the connections, even now. “I’m listening.” 

Herc and Stacker had been friends for a long time. Having met in their college days, both on military tracks, they’d found it prudent to keep in contact even before they’d become friends. There were days Herc thought they could have possibly been more if Stacker hadn’t taken a sudden assignment and he hadn’t met Angela just after. They’d remained in contact, remained friends. Stacker had been his best man. He was Chuck’s Godfather - a far more responsible choice over a restless, young Scott. Likewise, if anything had happened to Stacker, Mako would have been Herc’s to look after. He would still look after her - married and all, she was still family - if things eventually took a turn for the worse. As he knew Stacker would, as he knew he was trying to do. 

Still...he’d have never imagined…

“We haven’t been idle, as you can see.”

“This will revolutionize the fight,” he acknowledged, still in awe. 

“That’s the idea,” Stacker replied with a nod. 

He turned to him, a small smile threatening. “Been very busy.”

“Someone’s had to handle the other end.”

Between them - as always - any challenge could eventually be overcome. 

The exchange had left him lightheaded. A feeling he’d not experienced sans injury in over a decade. He’d gone to his bunk - the same one they always stayed in, the one Stacker left unchanged for them alone - and taken the first hot shower he’d had in _months_. Conscious of water conservation - despite Stacker’s assurances of a recycling system that mandated otherwise - he’d kept it down to just below ten minutes; scrubbing travel off him and soothing aching muscles. By the time he stepped out of it, warm, full bellied, adrenaline sagging, he’d dropped right into bed and slept indulgently. Waking a full, uninterrupted, eight hours later. He’d been tempted at first to simply roll over and add a little power nap for maximum recuperation, but the thought of getting to sit and eat without being on alert throughout the entire meal had him up and dressed and heading for the mess in no time at all. 

The Beckets - Raleigh and Mako - were there and flagged him down as soon as he’d loaded a tray. 

“Did you sleep well?” Mako asked. 

“Haven’t slept so well in months,” he informed her, picking up his fork to start in on his eggs. The Shatterdome had a lot of fowl. Apparently, the animals could be kept quite happy with the right application of lamps, nesting material and feed. They had considerably more animals at home, but they were in a warmer climate - with more frequent attacks of the Blues. It might become a problem if they moved, though he was more worried about their crops. “How’s Yancy?”

“Resting. According to Doctor Kelley, you saved his life. He’s going to need physical therapy, and it’ll be a while before he can ride, but, he’s going to live.”

“And Doctor Urban has informed us that he is clear of Kaiju Blue.” She reached across the table and squeezed his forearm, murmuring something in Japanese. Herc was fairly sure it was an expression that could not be expressed properly in any other way. Turning his arm, he gave her own a squeeze. 

“There’s no way we could ever repay you-”

Herc cut him off with a wave of his hand. “It’s what Rangers do. More to the point, it’s what decent people do.” Or what they damn well should. Too many had been lost due to the cowardice of others, even if he could understand the power fear could have over the uninitiated. “Don’t give it another thought.”

They looked at one another. 

“If you’re dead set on it,” he replied, taking a bite of his toast. “I wouldn’t object to a lesson in new weapons management.”

They smiled. 

As it turned out, the new weapons were easier to control with a full Jaeger. The coupling relays meant faster reaction times and made for more efficient means of obliteration. 

“We’re better with Yancy,” Raleigh apologized, scrubbing the back of his head. 

“You’re good enough,” Herc countered, flexing his arm. Not for the first time - not that he’d ever admit it - he wished Chuck had come with him. He’d have picked up the new weapons quickly and taken such an interest, he’d know them inside and out within a mere few hours. Technology wasn’t daunting to Herc. Chuck was just much better at it. The kid had a gift, and it had saved their asses more times than he could count. “Thanks for showing me.”

“Any time.”

Herc shifted, feeling the weight of the exoskeleton move about him. He really wished Chuck were here to see it. 

He spent a full week learning how to operate the new weapons and machinery. Learned how to care for it and what to do if it jammed. It was made to work in tandem, so he struggled often, but all in all, he did fairly well, if he said so himself. 

Every day he woke up, ate breakfast with the Beckets, worked out in the Kwoon, went to train with the equipment, ate lunch sometime in between, peddled his wares in the afternoon, ate dinner, met with Stacker, took a shower and went to bed. One might find it repetitive and thus boring. But, Herc couldn’t log enough hours. 

“Your success rate will increase with the presence of the rest of your Jaeger,” Stacker told him one evening, as they relaxed together. “I would send a pair back with you, but the neural overload would be too much. You’d never make it to Canada.” 

“Newt thinks he might be able to rig a second to follow. I’d be at risk, but as long as I didn’t use it for anything but a shadow, I should be able to make it all the way back.”

“I’d rather know you’re going to make it there and back unharmed.”

“That wasn’t a guarantee anyway.” He shrugged. “This way gives me more of a chance.” 

“I’ll go with you.”

Herc blinked at him. It took a moment to finally gather himself enough to respond. “Stacker, I couldn’t ask that of you,” he responded, shaking his head.

“And you didn’t.”

“They need you here.” 

“Tendo can handle things here. If we leave together, we can trail two. Between us, we should be able to handle the stressors of the neural load.” 

“Newt was going to code them to follow me biologically.”

“They still would, I’d only be helping keep the strain down.” 

“Stacker…”

“Herc, we are bringing the family together. I’m not arguing this with you anymore.” 

“We don’t even know if we’ll be able to-” Stacker’s index finger pressed down upon his lips, gently but firmly. 

“We’ll discuss it again when everyone is safe.”

He sighed, exhausted rather than angry. He was so tired of losing people. 

Stacker removed his finger, slipping into a crouch. He levered Herc’s knees apart so he could settle between them, holding his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“I’ve always trusted you.” 

Stacker’s hands settled over Herc’s thighs, gripping lightly but with purpose. “Do you believe I only have what’s best for everyone in mind?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then trust me in this. For once, Herc, trust blindly.” He pressed his middle and fore fingers against Herc’s chest, over his heart. “From here.”

“Long leap.”

“You’ll land on your feet.”

He swallowed. “I trust you.”

It was all the answer they needed. 

Raleigh and Mako had wanted to come along, as they had the best success with the weapons, even with Yancy in hospital. But Stacker had left them in defense of the dome, and with the other member of their Jaeger, who they were all aware they didn’t truly want to leave behind. Herc was glad. He’d have hated to attempt to argue with them over balances. 

Because they needed to travel light, he’d left Max and all but his most basic supplies with them. They’d either be coming back, or they wouldn’t. Either way, it was just stuff. And he’d rather Max remain safe if they did fail. 

Much of the trip back was a blur. They traveled quickly in their new machines. Protected from being bled on, or reached for. The strain of dragging two extras however, proved to be a bit more than either of them had anticipated. They’d had to stop several times, lining all the weapons back to back in a technological wagon technique, while they wiped bloody noses, ate and slept - strapped in and upright. 

They talked very little. There was no need, not with the drift. It had startled Herc at first. The intimacy and intensity nearly enough to make him cry from the sensation alone. But Stacker remained - as always - a steady, stable constant and he’d soon been able to right himself enough to move on with the first mission he’d had in years. 

Chuck had gone farther North than he’d expected. Likely in an effort to slow any pursuit by the Blues. It had proved both a good strategy and a handy location, as it shaved several weeks off their return. 

“Dad!” Chuck had called, hopping down the stairs of the main house. He ran down the unmarked path, trotting as he got close, eyes widening. Likely a joint factor of exoskeleton wartime machinery and the fact that Stacker was with him. In the moments he watched his fully grown son run out to meet him, Chuck’s image had been overlaid with a much smaller memory of himself. Until Herc saw only the child, his child. The vision didn’t exactly clear up when he powered down and Chuck made a woofing noise as he was picked up in a bear hug and spun around. 

“Dad! Dad!” he shouted, squirming. “Oi! Old man, get off! My arm!” 

Herc set him back on his feet, reality clearing, and found the sentiment still there. Clasping his son by the face, he planted a wet kiss over his brow and then slung an arm about him. “How’s it?” he asked. “Any better?”

Chuck blinked, stalled in a combination of shock and surprise. He didn’t seem likely to recover any time soon. Though he did start when Herc plucked at his sleeve. 

“‘S fine,” he replied, lifting it. He wiggled his fingers - a slower reflex - and rotated his forearm. 

Herc frowned. “I told you to lay off it.”

“It’s fine!” he snapped back. “I did what I had to!”

He tugged his son close, wanting nothing more than to embrace him, to protect him like he had that day over ten years ago. Cradled in his arms, lifted safely from harm’s way. 

“Stacker,” Chuck accused, voice slightly muffled as he was crushed in another hug - one he noticeably didn’t fight. “What’d you do to Dad?”

“It’ll wear off,” Stacker assured him. 

“It better,” his son grumbled. 

It did. Though Herc couldn’t say if he enjoyed it or not. It took a few days to be able to look at Chuck and see him for the capable man he was and not the frightened child he’d once been. Or the happy one. Chuck hadn’t been happy that he’d left Max, though he’d conceded the point. The new tech had been enough to sway him to accept the apology, and he spent long hours with Stacker, out in the barn tending to them, and learning how to operate them. 

Scott hadn’t gotten much better, although he’d not gotten much worse. And for that Herc was grateful. “We’re going to get you to some doctors,” he told his brother. “Real ones, who went to medical school and even graduated.”

Scott had laughed - a horrible wet, short sound that had forced him to double over. “Who knew there’d be a day we’d get excited about going to see one,” he’d countered. 

Herc had lain with him for a while, catching up and comforting one another with their presences. He told him about the tech, and promised he wouldn’t lose his place in one as long as he could still breathe. Scott had made a derisive joke at that, and he’d had to remember to be gentle with the ill and destitute. 

They waited on the weather. On the births. On the ill. Six months passed quickly, as their Jaeger grew in strength and aptitude. Somehow Stacker’s presence hadn’t affected them much, lending capability and forethought to a Jaeger that was mostly about movement and response. He fit in almost too well. While the revelation blindsided him one day, he found, there was no surprise accompanying it, nor any hints of discontent. It was as if Stacker had always been. So natural, so readily, like the instinct to inhale. 

On the eve of their departure, while everyone else slept, Herc sat on the porch with Stacker, taking in the bulk of their endeavor. He held out his glass, tipping it invitingly. “Here’s to us all making it.”

Stacker tipped his glass and the soft tinkling of it was almost sharp in the silence. 

Herc took a sip and stared out into the darkness. “I hope this works.”

“It’ll work,” Stacker assured.

“I haven’t flown in years. Neither have you,” he pointed out, index finger in his direction. “Don’t even know if we’ll manage to land safely.”

“We’ll get a survey out of it at any rate,” Stacker replied. “Know our enemy better.” 

He silently agreed, and they sat together for a while more. The minutes drifting by on the breeze. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” Herc finally asked.

“I don’t see as there’s much to talk about,” he replied. 

Herc opened his mouth to object and never got a breath out. Inhaling against warm skin as Stacker kissed him. He set his glass down and slung one leg, effectively straddling him in a single motion. Their kiss was powerful, yet comfortable, as if they’d spent years sending one another secret ones, through letters and photos, smiles and handshakes. The release in his chest however, had only moments to flood his system, before Stacker got down to business. 

“Christ!” Herc hissed as he was taken in hand. “Warn a man!”

Stacker swirled a thumb expertly about the tip. 

Herc swore. The bastard had used the drift to cheat. Knew exactly how Herc liked it and where and how much pressure for how long. Knew all the secret sweet spots hidden away about his body. As he proved as he nipped his shoulder. 

Well. Two could play that game. 

Even knowing he’d hear about it, the fact that Stacker loved it made the point null and void. Herc gripped his shirt by the collar and yanked. Buttons flew, but the heat in Stacker’s eyes intensified. He leaned forward to mouth at the larger man’s chest and throat while trying to keep his hips from pumping into the tightening grip. 

Stacker stood, surprising him. Any other time, Herc likely would have had something against being carried. Instead, he took the time to tease him, pleased when he got a reaction that halted the other man’s step, or made him move more swiftly. His back slammed into the wood, and he groaned as a hard, hot cock still trapped in cloth aggressively rocked against him, catching along his balls and grating against the teeth of his open fly. His hands moved immediately to free it, sighing as Stacker groaned the moment he freed it completely. In all the years they’d known one another, neither had ever anticipated they’d arrive where they currently found themselves. That much Herc knew for damn sure. 

“Stacker, I swear…” he growled. “If you don’t fuck me…”

The broader man laughed, a warm, rich sound that thrummed in Herc’s chest, vibrations coiling his belly nice and tight. 

“After this long,” Stacker replied, pulling something from his pocket. “I know better.” 

He set Herc on his feet, and try as he might to kick out of his pants, they caught on his boots. He moved to turn around to make it easier on them both, but Stacker halted him with a firm grip. “I want to see you,” he explained. “All of it. Every moment.”

Herc had never been much of a blusher, but it was hard to hide the flush that swept across his skin at the remark. “Just don’t get splinter’s in my arse.” 

Stacker swept his feet out from under him and he swore a second time, moving to clutch the sides of the barn fixtures in reach. It was a lucky thing, he thought as Stacker bent him double, that he was so flexible to start. He adjusted his grip as Stacker wasted no time, slick fingers circling, before one slid in deftly. Herc grunted. “Not going to break.”

“Just relax.”

He’d used his best officer’s voice, clipped and commanding, with a slight intonation in deference to their intimate state. It worked far too well. Herc’s entire body suddenly burning with need, even as his muscles obeyed instantly. Stacker took his time, until Herc grew frustrated with the teasing. He’d been thoroughly prepared to snap at him to get on with it when he felt the head of Stacker’s thick cock press against his hole. Instinctively, he spread his legs as best he could, accommodating for his girth. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth, head thunking back against the wood. His belly quivered as his body tried to both move toward and away from the intrusion at the same time, making his abdomen ripple with the aborted motion. His hands moved to grip Stacker’s shoulders, fingers biting into his skin. “Ah, Christ!” he bit out, his body stretching wide. 

“I warned you.” He sounded amused. 

“Shut up and fuck me,” he rasped, lurching forward to catch his mouth in a crushing kiss. 

It took a few minutes for them to settle, but the moment Herc realized Stacker was balls deep in him, he gave himself a mental pat for managing to take him all the way on the first try. Stacker’s hips rocked slowly, barely moving him much within Herc. But then, he’d learned his lesson prior to. Stacker could take all the time he needed. Herc could wait. 

Except, apparently he couldn’t, because he moaned Stacker’s name hot and wet against his lips, gripped his hips and used the leverage to move himself. And instantly saw stars. 

By the time they found a rhythm, Herc was so blissed he didn’t know up from down and didn’t care to. Stacker’s thrusts were at first deep and long. Quickly gaining speed and accuracy until Herc was biting into his own wrist to muffle his cries. Chuck would come running - they’d never had that experience before and he wasn’t keen to find himself in it now. 

Stacker pressed his own cries - more stilted and controlled, damn him - into Herc’s shoulder and the stretch of his neck. They clung to one another, giving the coupling everything they had. Every last moment, every lost day, every time they’d turned away. Herc didn’t even need more than the press of their bodies to come. The moment he did, Stacker followed. They held each other close, kissing leisurely without moving much else. Eventually Stacker withdrew and set him down. Herc felt empty, but Stacker stepped into him and drew him into his arms, forcing the feeling away. 

The next morning, neither had love bites, or a hair out of place. Yet Scott spent the whole morning grinning at them like an idiot and Chuck avoided their eyes. Some things, it turned out, came forefront in the drift. They’d have to remember that for later. 

The first leg of trip itself was painstakingly slow. They only had one chance to evacuate fully and it had to be done just so. The slightest mishap could force them to turn back, and if they did that, Herc knew the group’s morale would take a devastating hit. As it was, it’d been difficult enough to convince them to chance it in the first place. He was well aware they had only agreed to take the risk due to Stacker’s presence and the technology they’d brought with them. Their highly functioning, wonderfully efficient Jaeger had taken on a more than malevolent presence, that seemed as if to keep Blues away by sheer force of existence. It was times like these Herc found himself wondering if Blues retained anything of their former selves. If they had enough sense to know to be wary and cautious, to be afraid, Or if, by sheer animal instinct they responded with a bowing to the presence of a greater threat, a predator they could not identify and thus needed to be circumspect. 

Of course, thoughts like that inevitably lead to thoughts of Angela, and he buried them quickly. He didn’t need to wonder if she were out there somewhere still, or if she’d died in the nuclear attacks, or had been killed by survivors protecting themselves from her ravaging. He didn’t need those thoughts to run exhaustively about his already burdened mind. And Chuck sure as hell didn’t deserve them flowering in his own. It was difficult, but he managed to find the wayward thoughts and put them away - though he greatly suspected Scott and Stacker had helped. For which, he was infinitely grateful. 

They made it to the airfield and the plane they’d spent the last few months prepping. Loading went faster than they’d anticipated. But the Blues showed up, as they always did, as if drawn to the sound of engines. Remembering them from days long passed when they were a threat that needed quelling. On Stacker’s insistence they had run the drill every day, which meant, that save for the actual turning on of the engine, they had every motion perfectly choreographed. So the horde was easily dealt with, the remains circumvented and the plane in the air within ten minutes. Long enough to outrun the call to arms the engine evoked in every Blue near enough to hear it. 

They’d had to compromise on the plane. Unable to find one which suited their needs, they’d had to re-evaluate and settle on the next best thing. They mostly needed space and power. Something that would survive a rough take off and landing, but with enough speed to outpace hordes that might follow in it’s wake. They didn’t want to lead them all to one place just yet. That would come later. 

They’d chosen well, disappearing high enough to lose the Blues that took interest. They didn’t stop. Herc and Stacker taking turns pushing her to her limits. If they’d been running on jet fuel alone, they’d have never made it. But Stacker had geniuses tucked away in his Shatterdome, and the fuel cells that ran the exoskeletons had been converted to power the plane. They could theoretically circle the world without stopping on the charge in them alone. If things didn’t go well, it was nice to know they may have a future on Airlantis. That they’d first have to construct. Knowing their luck...the Blues would just evolve wings in response. 

“Lay back,” Stacker interrupted, pushing against his chest. “You’re doing it again.”

“Can’t help it,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “Fuck, I’m tired.” 

While they were both well aware his weariness had little to do with actual loss of sleep, Stacker played along. “Go lay down for a bit. I’ll take the final leg.”

Herc rose, hesitated, then decided he’d done enough of that already and leaned in and kissed him before heading out of the cabin. He didn’t sleep however. Merely found his son, flopped down in the seat beside him and drew him - uncomplaining - into his arms for a covert snuggle. The last flight they’d taken, Chuck had been in his lap, trying to obey him and not watch the carnage out the windows as they’d sped away from the city toward the base. If they both still held some jitters about flying because of it, neither of them were willing to admit it. 

Chuck’s body eventually sagged against his. Anxiety draining away in the wake of the force of Herc’s embrace. Falling back into his absolute trust in him which Herc had never felt he truly deserved. He slept the rest of the trip. 

Mako, Raleigh and Yancy were waiting for them at the airfield. Exoskeletons on to help them evacuate the area quickly, before the Blues could make the trip. As the ice had thawed, they’d ended up in a fight regardless of all their planning. But, the Blues feared their new weapons, and tried to keep out of range of them, attempting to herd members of the community free of the shelter of their protection. It had proved enlightening, even as the challenge subsided. 

“We’ve been taking them out every week,” Raleigh explained on the trek back to the Shatterdome. “Hunting nest after nest.”

“We’ve managed to clear the area around the ‘Dome for miles,” Yancy added. “It’s still not safe to go out on your own.” He made eye contact with the children for extra measure. “But, no Blues come close to us any more.” 

The looks on his people’s faces when the ‘Dome came into view was not something Herc would soon forget. Indeed, in the light of the sun, it was a gleaming pillar of hope. An imposing fortress that dared to stand against the threat of Blues. 

“Gottlieb and I match,” Yancy joked, when he noticed the group had caught sight of his limp. He smiled, then turned to Stacker and nodded seriously. “It doesn’t affect my work.”

“I didn’t suspect it would,” Stacker responded. 

“Max!” Chuck shouted, throwing himself to the floor, arms out and open. The bulldog bounded forward despite his age, excited to be reunited with his family. Chuck scooped him up and held him close, laughing and turning his head this way and that as Max licked enthusiastically at every part of him he could reach - and even some he couldn’t. 

“What in the holy hell is that?!” 

Herc turned to direct his gaze in the direction Scott had frozen in and felt his stomach bottom out. 

“Ah, they’ve arrived.”

“Just last week,” Raleigh replied.

“This, gentlemen,” Stacker said, gesturing to the hulking monstrosity that loomed over them. “Is where the project is headed. The exoskeletons are just prototypes. A means to an end. Training and functional all in one. For this.”

“What are you calling it?” asked Scott, awed. 

“She is Cherno Alpha,” came a heavily accented voice. They turned to find a pair behind them, one male, one female, neither of which seemed easily overtaken in any way. “After our Jaeger.”

“We are thinking, Stacker,” said the other. “Maybe these should be new Jaegers, da?”

“I like the sound of that,” he agreed.


End file.
